Chapter Text
Fifteen-year-old Hanson Alister stretched as he and Dancer returned to Marisa Pines Camp, their shoulder-bags annoyingly empty of valuable plants. Han was glad he’d decided to take a day away from Fellsmarch, time to think about what he wanted from life, but the day itself hadn’t turned out as well as he’d been hoping. “Tomorrow let’s go hunting, instead.”
Dancer nodded. “Sure, works for me. Why is it all the nastiest plants in the nastiest places are the most valuable, anyway?”
Han shrugged. “Easier to pay someone to get them for you than go after them yourself, I guess.” They’d had the conversation before, and probably would again; it was a way to complain about the work required and the mud it frequently added to their clothes.
He ducked through the doorway of the Matriarch Lodge and stopped short, Dancer bumping into his back.
“Hunts Alone, watch where you’re walking!”
Han was too surprised to retort. "Lord Demonai!" The grey-haired patriarch of the Demonai was seated, speaking with Dancer’s mother Willo.
"Greetings, Hunts Alone,” said Averill, with a smile.
“You know my name?” I an’t important enough for Lord Demonai to know my name!
“I knew your father."
Han's eyes widened. "My... father?" A memory came to mind, a younger Averill without so much grey hair, speaking to Han’s father in low worried voices when they thought he had gone to sleep. Han didn’t remember the room well; it must have been before they’d moved above the stable.
"Yes,” Averill continued, standing. “He and I were friends for a long while, much like you and Fire Dancer. When we were your age, we even traveled to Carthis to learn their fighting techniques. But I am not here to talk about old times. I’m here to ask you to come with me."
As if I could say no! He’s Averill Demonai! "Where to?"
Averill’s smile widened to a grin. "The castle."
#
As soon as Gavan Bayar had caught wind of Raisa’s return to Fellsmarch, however brief, he had instructed Micah to go to the castle immediately so that he could spend as much time wooing her as possible. Micah had no intention of objecting, not only for his father, whose motives he was never certain of. Every time they’d encountered each other in Raisa’s brief sojourns away from the mountains over the past two years, the allure of their forbidden romance had helped rekindle their courtship. As far as Micah was concerned, the only thing standing in their way was the irritating factor of the Naeming. But power was stronger than the Clans’ stupid rules. Which was why, before heading to the castle, Micah had elected to pilfer a certain amulet in their family’s possession. In whatever brief moment he had with Raisa this time, he meant to show her how powerful he could be, that he could keep the Clans off their backs and they could reveal their romance to the whole Queendom.
Besides, it isn’t really stealing, if it will belong to me anyway when Father eventually dies. Especially if I put it back when I get home. I’m just… borrowing it.
#
After cleaning up and donning his best clan leggings and a fine long-sleeved flatland shirt Willo lent him, Han, Dancer, and Averill rode down to Fellsmarch, and toward the castle, soaring towers of marble and stone surrounded by the Dyrnnewater. The teens' eyes widened at the opulence as they passed into the castle close, and Han wondered if whoever’d built Southbridge Temple had built the castle after deciding they needed an even grander structure. Averill smiled.
"It’s quite something, isn’t it?"
Han grinned sheepishly, closing his jaw.
#
Han was introduced to the queen, then the two princesses. He remembered to bow, though he wasn’t sure how deep one was supposed to go, so he erred on the side of excess. The five of them sat, Dancer waiting at the door; Lord Demonai seemed to accept that where one went, the other followed, but obviously whatever this was involved Han more than it did Dancer. The older man cleared his throat.
"Now, Raisa, I know you were wondering why I brought you back to the castle earlier than you had expected. You may return to Demonai Camp soon, but there are matters that must first be dealt with. Hanson, when your father and I were young, before either of us were married, he and I came to an agreement- that if one of us had a son and the other a daughter, they would be wed.”
Raisa and Mellony's eyes widened.
"That's so romantic..." murmured Mellony. Raisa jumped to her feet, looking outraged. Marianna, who seemed to have known about this beforehand, was frowning slightly; but, taking another look at Han, changed this expression to thoughtfulness and appraisal. Han simply raised one eyebrow, and tried to look mature and ignore both his own shock and Dancer staring at him in shocked mirth.
“There were… extenuating circumstances, which we were unaware of, but those may be dealt with in time. For now our purpose is to determine which of my daughters you will be betrothed to.”
"Raisa would seem the wisest choice," said Queen Marianna before the others could say anything. "They are closest in age, and I believe Mellony is too young to marry."
"Yes. That's what I had thought," Averill agreed, over the beginnings of Raisa’s stammer. Han had a suspicion they had discussed this already in depth. “Though of course the engagement should be kept a secret for now – best not to ruffle feathers. We’ll say the two of you are simply courting.” Raisa glared daggers at Han, and he stared right back. People had never made decisions about Han’s love life before, and the idea rankled him for some reason; he guessed the princess had similar feelings. On the other hand, this could finally be the clean break from my old streetlord life that I’ve been looking for.
Marianna looked at the expressions shared between the two. “Raisa, dear, why don’t you give Hanson and his friend a tour of the castle?”
“And meet me in the solarium when you’ve finished,” said Averill, “there’s something I would like to speak to both of you about.”
Those ‘extenuating circumstances’ he mentioned, maybe?
“Fine, follow me,” said Raisa, stalking quickly out of the room. Han jumped up and went after her.
“Just so you know, I have no intention of marrying some jerk I've never met,” she said as he and Dancer caught up. “I am going to get out of this ridiculous dress” – she said that with a grimace as she looked at it – “go back to the mountains where I can move my legs, and forget this ever happened.”
“As if I’d want to marry a tomboy like you anyway,” Han found himself saying, irritated at her apparent immunity to his astonishing good looks and taking a verbal jab at her in retaliation. Her eyes widened and she slapped him, growling. Then his brain finally processed what his mouth had said.
Where did that come from? And… had some part of him meant that as a compliment?
#
Taking a moment in a window’s reflection, Micah fussed briefly with his dark hair, then made sure the amulet was still hidden beneath his shirt. With the sword at his side, he made quite a fetching figure, in his own unbiased opinion. He caught sight of Princess Mellony coming his way down the castle hallway.
“Hello, Princess," he said, kneeling closer to her height. "You look radiant as ever.”
“Micah! What brings you to the castle today?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you could point me in your sister’s direction? There was something I wanted to speak to her about.”
Mellony nodded. “Sure! She’s giving her f- er, a boy who’s courting her a tour of the castle.”
Micah’s stomach dropped. “C-courting? Who?” he stammered. Who would have the nerve to try to steal his fierce mountain cat?
"His name is Hanson Alister!"
Alister? I’ve never heard of an Alister family. “What family is he from?”
“Oh, I don’t know! He came down from the Spirits today with my father.”
“No, no I won’t have it,” said Micah, fists clenching. “Some lowborn of no consequence courting the princess? I will not have it!” I’ll even use it if I have to. Raisa and I love each other, we don’t need anyone butting in!
#
"Get away from her, Alister!” shouted a young man as he tore down the hallway, swinging a fist.
"What the-" cried Han, jumping out of the way. He almost pulled his knife, but good sense got the better of him for once. The way he’s swinging, he obviously hasn’t done much brawling.
“Micah, what are you doing?” said Raisa in disbelief. Han looked the young man, Micah, over; a boy his own age, with straight black hair, but a fine cloak of wool and silk, and a likely never-used sword at his side. His long stoles, emblazoned with silver falcons, fluttered behind him as he came at Han again, yelling.
"I will never allow you to court the princess!" Raisa and Han shushed him, but too late – he’d said it plenty loud enough for the servants and courtiers in the hallway to hear.
"Courting? Did you hear that? Ooh, he’s handsome!"
“It’s not like that-“
“Our parents decided!”
Han dodged another punch. "Look, I’ll fight you, but this an’t the place for it!” he said. “Follow me!"
"Gladly!" shouted Micah, running after.
#
“Here looks good, wouldn’t you say?” Han said, slipping through a wide doorway into a small garden. He wasn’t actually sure where in the castle he was, but that could come later. He dodged another clumsy attack from Micah.
“Really? You’re not very good at this, are you?”
Micah growled and drew his sword. That was actually a little surprising, as Han had assumed it was pretty much for show, but the other boy seemed to have at least some idea how to use it. But Han was better. He ducked the blade, slipped inside Micah’s guard, and then delivered a blow to his wrist that sent the sword clattering to the tiles of the path. Han kicked it out of the way.
“Why don’t you just-” give up, he started to say, when Micah thrust a hand into his shirt. He drew out an ornately-carved amulet, and threw his other hand forward. Bones, he’s a jinxflinger! Not good. Not that Han had actually seen a jinxflinger in action before, but he knew enough to recognize one. He mulled his options for a split second as Micah started to mutter a charm. Running away was probably the best idea, but somehow it just didn’t sit right. Alister, you hardheaded idiot. Hardheaded- Han flung his head forward, and his forehead cracked into the other boy’s. Micah staggered back, jinx dying on his lips, and Han ignored his headache to press the offensive. Batting away his arms – he registered faintly a small snap and the motion of something flying out of Micah’s hand – knee to the stomach, an elbow to the back of the neck as he doubled over, and then one more strike to the temple for good measure.
Micah collapsed in a heap, and Han panted, rubbing his forehead, then his cuffs, which had grown warm for some reason. He glanced at the boy’s hands – both empty – and then his eyes scanned the room until they lit on the amulet he’d been carrying, flung into a corner, glittering beneath a rosebush. Han walked over to it and knelt.
That thing looked old, and with the inset diamond and the ruby eyes of the snakes, likely valuable. That could pay the rent for a year, at least, if this whole engagement business didn’t work out or was some sort of elaborate prank.
Bones, Han, what did you just say about a clean break? But there was something about the amulet. He could feel the power coming off it. And… well, when Micah woke up, he’d probably start trying to kill Han again, and it would be easier if he didn’t have a jinxpiece. And he didn’t want to leave it lying here in case some servant wandered by. Yeah. That’s the ticket, that’s the reason I’m taking it. That’s all. Making sure there were no watching eyes, Han pulled a square of leather from his pocket and wrapped the amulet up, slipping the packet into his boot.
Han checked Micah again to make sure he was alright – they probably don’t like it when you hurt a blueblood too bad when you’re supposed to be palling around with them – then spun around, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started walking to the door. About halfway there, Dancer and Raisa arrived, Raisa out of breath, holding her skirts up, and muttering something about her preference for leggings. She glanced past Han, and her hands went to her face.
“What did you do to him?” she cried, running to Micah. Dancer followed reluctantly.
“I didn’t hurt him too bad!” Han replied indignantly. A groan from Micah reinforced that he was, in fact, alive.
“I didn’t say you had!”
“It was his fault for attacking me, anyhow!” said Han. He glanced at Dancer, hoping for backup. Dancer glared at Bayar’s prone form, then swallowed and turned away. What was his deal?
Raisa knelt by Micah, checking him over.
“I didn’t break nothing,” Han said, less angry this time, as he saw the care Raisa took. “But, uh. If I’d known you were sweethearts, I’d have been more gentle.”
Raisa spun toward him. “What? How- no, we aren’t-“
Han shrugged. “Hey, none of my business. This whole engagement thing was our fathers’ idea. Like who you like, y’know?”
“But he’s a jinxflinger,” Dancer spat, far angrier than Han had expected. “You- how can you- you’re the heir to the Grey Wolf line! It’s forbidden!”
Raisa drew herself up and glared at him. “He is a nice young man and a friend, and he is courting me. As Raisa, not as the Grey Wolf line. You will not spread word of this, Hayden Fire Dancer, because there is nothing serious or official about our relationship.”
Han snorted. “Try telling him that. I’m pretty sure he was trying to kill me.”
Raisa’s fists clenched, then she sighed and released them. “Let’s just go. We’ll send for a healer for Micah, and then find out what my father wanted to see us about.”
#
Han and Raisa continued to argue as she led the three of them up numerous flights of stairs, ending up in a rooftop garden. Averill Demonai and Willo Watersong stood in front of a bench, and Elena Demonai sat between them. What’s Willo doing here? She never comes down to the city!
"Hunts Alone. Briar Rose." Elena said.
"Ah- Elena Cennestre!" Han and Raisa said together.
"Sit."
The three fifteen-year-olds followed instructions.
"Dancer, do you know what's going on?" Han whispered.
"I’ve been with you and Raisa this whole time, remember? I haven’t got a clue. Wait- is that Lucius?"
Han's jaw dropped. It was indeed old Lucius Frowsley, his sometime employer. Surprisingly, he looked a lot cleaner than usual. Han could have sworn he was sober.
"Lucius? What are you doing here?"
"You'll see soon enough." said Lucius, sitting on the bench across from the Demonais and Willo. He frowned, and if he hadn’t been blind Han would’ve thought he’d been looking him up and down. “You got your cuffs on, boy?”
“A’course I have my cuffs on.” They don’t come off, he knows that.
Willo stood. "Hunts Alone, Briar Rose, I want to begin by asking your forgiveness. Especially you, Hunts Alone. We've kept a secret from you all this time. For many reasons. Partly to protect you. Partly to protect everyone else. But now, for many other reasons, not least your engagement – which I wish we’d been made aware of before it had been made official”, she said, glancing at Averill – “we've decided to tell you the truth."
Han didn't like where this was going.
Willo passed him a cup of tea and a jug.
Han sniffed it. "Rowan?" he said, surprised. Rowan was for protection against hexes. Did they think something had happened when he fought Micah earlier? How did they even know about it already?
"Drink. It will calm you."
Did he need calming? He noticed his hand shaking. Apparently, he did.
Lucius spoke. "First, there's one small matter. The Demon King wasn't all that bad."
As Han spluttered on his tea, Lucius told a story of betrayal and sorrow much different from the stories of the monstrous Demon King he’d heard growing up in Ragmarket, and in Clan stories. How Alger Waterlow and Hanalea had defied the plans of other wizards, and had been betrayed for their love. Elena Demonai glowered, but did not interject.
“This can’t be true,” said Han. He glanced to Raisa and Dancer, who had similar bewildered looks. “Right?”
"I an’t done, boy. Sit there an’ lissen,” said Lucius sternly. When no further interruption seemed forthcoming, he continued. “Y’see, when Alger died, Hanalea was with child. Children, actually, a boy and a girl."
"What?" said Han, nearly choking again on his latest sip of tea.
"I never heard that!" said Raisa.
"That was the idea," replied Lucius. "She married shortly after the Breaking, and everyone assumed the twins were- were her consort's. Her and Waterlow's daughter, Alyssa, founded the new line of queens."
Raisa nodded mutely. That much even Han knew.
"Luckily she didn’t show any signs of wizardry, though some believe the Grey Wolf line's talent for prophecy comes from Waterlow."
"You're saying the queens are descended from the Demon King." Han whispered.
"We had no choice!" Elena broke in. "Alyssa was Hanalea's only daughter."
Well. No wonder they kept that secret, if the whole line of queens is founded on a lie.
"What about the boy?" asked Dancer, something in his eyes Han couldn’t place.
Lucius laughed softly. Darkly. "The problem. From the moment of his birth, his wizardry was obvious, but that had to be kept quiet. Hanalea told the clans he'd died and been buried in an unmarked grave, but the truth got out. The Demonai tried to get the clan matriarch to drop him off a cliff, but Hanalea bargained for his life – he lived, but she gave him up, forever. Considering what Hanalea’d done, the clans couldn’t say no."
"Say just for a moment that we believe all of this,” said Raisa. She glanced at Han and he met it with a look of agreement. “How exactly do you know about it?” Han had been wondering that himself, and from Raisa’s perspective the storyteller wasn’t even old Lucius with the strangely endless library, he was just a bedraggled old man.
"I was there, girl,” said the bedraggled old man. “Back then they called me Lucas Fraser. I was the one who married Hanalea after Alger's death."
Dancer, leaning forward to pour himself some of the tea from the jug, fell over.
"What???" cried Han again. He seemed to be getting a lot of use out of the word today. He looked, and saw the truth on the adults' faces.
Lucius? Lucius Frowsley, a drunkard who went without a bath for a month at a time, had married a queen?
"That's impossible!" said Raisa. "You'd be over a thousand years old!"
"Aye, lass. Though I quit counting a long time ago."
"So... what's all this got to do with me and Raisa? Other than the fact she’s descended from the Breaker?"
"You'll see." said Elena. No rushing a clan story. "As you can imagine, there was much disagreement over what to do with the male child, who might grow up to become an extremely powerful wizard. The Demonai still wanted to kill him, no matter Hanalea."
"Of course," muttered Han softly.
"But there was something about the child, some of his father's charm. Not to mention Lucius' vehement argument towards sparing the boy." Elena glared at Lucius. "In the end, the decision was made to hide the boy's ancestry, and keep his magic bound and controlled so it wasn't apparent. We've been watching the boy's descendants ever since, to make sure they would be no threat to the queen."
Averill cleared his throat. "Whether that was a good decision or not, we still don't know. But given the situation, and the civil war in the south, we've been forced to reconsider it."
"For generations, we've watched the descendants of the child." Elena said. "Right now, we know of only one living gifted descendant. A male child."
"Lemme guess," put in Han, "You're gonna hunt him down and kill him, because of his heritage? 'Cause he might join the Wizard Council and threaten the queen?"
"Er... no." said Averill. "Mother?"
Elena continued. Mom always gets the tough questions, huh? "It occurred to the council that having a wizard on their side could prove a valuable asset, so it was required that each descendant be fostered in the camps. The secret passes through the clan elders; we have never had to reveal it until now. This is why we met you here."
Han cocked his head. Was it someone he knew? Did they want him to break it to the descendant or something? Why are Dancer and Raisa looking at me like that?
"It's you, Hunts Alone." said Willo, leaning forward, taking his hands. "You are Alger Waterlow's only living gifted descendant."
Han jumped up, pulling his hands free. No. No no no no no. No. "What are you talking about? You don't want me. I an't gifted."
He backed away, coming up against a rosebush. Elena came toward him.
"I made your bracelets, Hunts Alone. They absorb high magic- yours, and that used against you. All of the gifted descendands of Waterlow have worn them- since his son, Alister."
Han stared at his cuffs as if he had never seen them before. Remembered the way they’d warmed after Micah had gotten off that jinx. The rowan tea Willo had given him.
Han Alister, almost-former streetlord of the Raggers, was also a wizard who could shoot flames from his hands and fling jinxes.
"Your grandfather wore the bracelets as well." said Elena.
"Your father did not," Averill said. "Neither I nor he knew of his heritage. I was told after he died, when I became Lord Demonai."
"So, what, you thought I'd go insane like my ancestor and blow up the city or something?"
"Alger wasn't a madman." Lucius muttered sternly. "I don't care what all of you say."
"So why are you telling me all this?" Han said. His voice cracked.
"Because, the Wizard Council is growing stronger,” Elena replied. “Normally, we’d have ignored the engagement issue, told you of this in private, and tried to keep the two of you from meeting until it became necessary, but your fathers made a blood pact.”
“And that’s bad?”
“It is when two foolish young men mix half-understood clan traditions into it.” She glared at Averill, who, to Han’s surprise, looked positively sheepish. “With the strength of power in you children’s bloodlines, simply breaking it could break the world again. It seems to be drawing you together regardless; in the past three years you’ve nearly met each other five times. In this case we have determined it is best to at least proceed with the engagement, do our best to keep you both alive, and see what course matters take from there.”
Hen and Raisa shared a look, incredulity mixed with fear. Break the world again?
“Now, Hunts Alone, you have a choice. You can stay here, and continue much as you have been. Or, we will remove the cuffs, on the condition that you go to Mystwerk Hall at Oden's Ford when you reach the right age, and learn to control this… gift the Maker has given you. When you complete your training, you will return and use your gift in the service of Clan and Queen."
Han stared at her. Didn’t Dancer say something about… “So what, a wizard can marry the queen as long as he’s working for you?”
Averill shrugged. Elena looked away. They all sat in silence for a moment.
"Fine,” Han huffed. He was having trouble concentrating. “Do I have to decide right now?"
"Of course not." said Willo. "However, the decision must be made by the time you reach sixteen. If you make it much before then, we would like to send you to Carthis, to study there a while as your father did, before we take the cuffs off."
That broke through his fog.
“Carthis?” he yelped. “I an’t never been further than the Spirits! Why do I gotta go there? And how do you expect me to get there, swim?”
“This was a stipulation of the engagement contract, which, unless we determine a way to get out of, we must follow to the letter. Naturally, your passage aboard ship will be paid for.”
"Um. Sure. All right. I'd, um. I’d like to think now," said Han. He turned and strode weakly out, barely noticing Raisa and Dancer following.
"Han? Are you all right?" asked Dancer as they caught up to him, worry evident in his voice.
"Not really." Han growled it more than spoke.
"Wait- they said you were the only gifted descendant. Do you have siblings?" asked Raisa. Han appreciated her attempt to change the subject.
"Yeah..." he said, mustering a smile. “A sister. Her name's Mari. She's six. Our Mam does washing. Some ragpicking.”
Raisa thought for a minute. "Why don't they come and live here?"
Han's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."
"Not at all. They may as well, with this whole engagement thing.”
"That’s… wow. All right.” Han gave the princess a long look. She’s not bad for a blueblood. “Maybe we can get someone to get my Mam, and I’ll get my sister from Southbridge Temple. She's got classes."
She nodded. "I'll work out your living arrangements while you're gone."
#
"Wow..." breathed Mari as she followed her big brother and Dancer into the castle close. Raisa and golden-haired Mellony came out to meet them.
"Hi!" said the latter. "You must be Mari! I'm Princess Mellony! I can tell we'll be great friends!"
As Mari and Mellony walked away, Mari chattering excitedly, Han's mother entered the courtyard, wearing her best clothes – still embarrassingly shabby, but when it’s all you have sometimes you don’t worry so much.
"Hanson, what is this? Are we really going to live- Oh! Your Highness, I'm so sorry!" she said, curtsying deeply.
"It's all right," said Raisa. "Since my father says Hanson and I are to be married, I don’t mind some familiarity."
Mam’s eyes widened, then she nodded. “I never thought Lord Demonai would go through with it, after Danel passed. It’s time then, is it?”
"Seems so,” said Han. He hadn’t realized she’d known about it, but thinking about it, she obviously would have had some idea. It was probably why she’d never called him cursed like some folks in his life. Like he himself had almost started to think, until today. “Here comes someone to show you our new room. I'll catch up later."
"Rooms, actually." Raisa interjected. Han and Sali stared at her.
"Rooms? As in, more than one?" said Han disbelievingly.
"Yes," said Raisa. She looked surprised, but then, she hadn’t seen the single room that the Alisters had previously inhabited. "One bedroom for each of you, and a sitting room as well. In the same area as the royal apartments."
#
The rest of the evening was spent finishing their tour of the castle, as Han wanted to get a look at the servants’ corridors, and helping Mam and Mari settle in, so it wasn’t until Han undressed beside his bed that night – his bed, in his own room, under a window that looked out over the city from higher than he’d ever been – that he remembered the amulet. He took the packet from his boot to unwrap it, and the jinxpiece slipped out; without thinking, he grabbed it barehanded. It felt pleasantly heavy and warm, vibrating with power Han could feel in his breastbone and the cuffs at his wrists. Nothing else happened, so he continued to hold it as he sat down. He brushed his thumb against the detail in the scales, the fangs. Something about it called to him, and he found that concerning. But then, he was supposed to be a wizard, wasn’t he? And a wizard needed an amulet. He lay back and studied it by the light that came though his window. Where did you get this, Bayar? Dancer says wizards an’t allowed amulets until they’ve gone to Oden’s Ford, and you’re no older than we are. So why did you have it?
When he fell asleep, he was still clutching it to his chest.
#
Two days later, Han decided to leave for Carthis as the clans had asked. He’d settled up with Cat about his departure from the Raggers – she’d been angry, but he’d explained a little about fulfilling a promise his father had made, and she understood promises and family honor well enough – and then told Lord Demonai of his decision.
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," he said now, grinning, as he hopped astride the clan pony. It was his first horse, and he'd named him Ragger. "I'll be back before you know it. Dancer, keep my sis outta trouble, eh?"
"Sure, Hunts Alone." replied Dancer. Han caught Raisa looking at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Dancer is okay to be here, right?” he asked Raisa awkwardly, realizing he’d just invited his friend to stay at the castle more or less indefinitely. She nodded.
"Of course. I may be returning to Demonai camp, but Fire Dancer is welcome any time.”
Han nodded. “Good. Okay. I’ll, um. See you when I get back.” It was annoying how his usual suave tongue deserted him around her. Everything wound up coming out wrong. At least he’d have some time to think of what to say next time they met.